The Woman Who Never Came Back
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Twenty five years in the future, a decades old murder will reunite the team in the pursuit of justice.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: This is my first "Bones" fic, so I hope I do the characters justice. Thanks to my extra-special beta, PhDelicious. And to everyone who's reading this, thanks for clicking and enjoy!

* * *

The Woman Who Never Came Back

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**April 2032**

"New case for you, Seth."

"Great!" The Jeffersonian's facial reconstruction artist might have been the youngest member of the team at 24, but his talent was unquestioned, and his enthusiasm was infectious. "I made the changes to Lake Man based on the new information. He's on your desk."

As they walked up the short flight of steps to the layout area, Dr. Zack Addy nodded his approval. "I saw. Great work. Look for the picture in tomorrow's news." He smiled. "I know you keep a scrapbook."

Seth's cheeks turned pink. "Yeah, but I call it my portfolio."

Zack ran his hand over the sensor pad, activating the chip in his wrist. The glass doors slid open silently. "Have I told you recently how much I love the fact that you still work with clay and pencils and paints?"

"It's been a few days, sir. But thanks."

The lone examination table in the layout room contained a single skeleton. "Case number 67239-B," Zack said. "Construction workers found this one while they were digging the foundation for the new Capital building." He pointed to the pelvic bones. "Female, obviously. Caucasian. Anywhere from 30 to 40 years old. Probably around 5'8", maybe 5'9". Hair, eyes, body type…well, I won't do your job for you."

Seth circled the table, eyeing the bones from all angles. "Any idea how long she's been dead?"

"Still working on that. Definitely more than ten years." Zack gingerly lifted the skull. "No doubt about the cause of death though." He put his finger through the hole in the back.

"Execution style," the artist supplied. "Not my area, but interesting to note."

After setting the skull back down, the older man started for the door. "I'll leave you to it."

With his boss gone, Seth considered the skeleton for another long minute. "Don't worry, honey," he said with a smile. "I'll give you your face back."

* * *

Two hours later, Seth had all the tissues depth markers in place around the skull. After another hour, and about a pound of clay, the head was beginning to take shape.

"Strong jaw," he mused as he smoothed clay over bone. "I like that in a woman."

Having finished with the science, he was ready to focus on the art. This was his specialty, and why he preferred old-fashioned methods of forensic artistry. He let his hands feel the face, and more often than not, his reconstructions ended up being far more accurate than anything the computers spit out, even more so than the advanced programs that the Jeffersonian employed.

There really wasn't any way to tell what color the woman's hair had been, so he decided to go with the majority of the population and make her a brunette. He tended to use hazel as a standard eye color, because it photographed better. The others might call his collection of wigs and glass eyes freaky, but they were always effective.

Several hours later, with the hair and eyes in place, Seth was ready to showcase the rough draft of his latest masterpiece.

The rest of the team gathered for the unveiling; it was a little tradition. No one could remember how it had started. But they all liked to see Seth's work for the first time together, as a group. Somehow it made a stronger impact; they would go back to their individual work with a greater sense of purpose, having seen the face of the job.

Seth looked around the little group. Dr. Addy, their leader and senior anthropologist. Maria O'Malley, their liaison to the National Department of Inquiry. Dr. Taylor Gartrell, materials, chemicals and DNA. Dr. Amy Nash, entomology. Dr. John Townsend, archeology. The best of the best. This was the team who had identified Jimmy Hoffa's remains. It was an honor to work with them in any capacity.

"Everyone, I'd like to you meet Miss Jane Doe 67239-B." He pulled off the cloth, revealing the face he'd worked so hard to bring to life.

"Nice," John observed with a slick grin. "Sweet senorita."

Amy threw him a withering look. "Please don't mack on the dead."

"Who says 'mack on'? The turn of the millennium called and they want their phrase back."

"I'll give it back, if you'll return that comeback with it," she snapped.

Maria shook her head at the ceiling. "I am so sorry that I suggested you two have sex to work out your tension."

"Hey." Ever the straight man of the group, Taylor directed them all back to the task at hand. He looked at their leader, and frowned when he saw that all the color had drained from the older man's face. "Dr. Addy? What's wrong?"

"This is a mistake."

Seth frowned. "Sir?"

His boss shook his graying head. "You've made a mistake. A big mistake. How…" He stopped; his eyes moved back and forth as if he was trying to process something. "You must have seen pictures."

"Pictures?" Amy wondered out loud.

They all exchanged looks. Dr. Addy was brilliant, but he wasn't without his idiosyncrasies. He had moments of extreme melancholy and times when his genius mind had to shut down for a few seconds before he could rejoin the world. They were all used it. But this was different.

"I just followed the skull," Seth said, trying very hard not to be hurt the horrified look on his mentor's face. "It's still a little rough, but this is Jane Doe." His shoulders lifted a bit. "I can just feel it."

Dr. Addy closed his eyes.

"Zack?" Maria put her hand on his arm. "What's going on?" She paused. "Do you recognize the face?"

He opened them again, releasing a few pent-up tears. Taking in a shaky breath, he nodded. "Yes. Jane Doe…is Dr. Temperance Brennan."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter of this story. Crossing into a new fandom is always tough, but I felt very welcomed. Enjoy this chapter, even though it's a little short.

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The Woman Who Never Came Back

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**January 2007**

"I'm not saying that's what happened. I'm saying the evidence is suggesting that's what happened."

"Yeah, well, you know what happens when you assume, Bones?"

"No. What?"

"You…you know…an ass. You and me?"

Dr. Temperance Brennan stared at the man walking beside her. "Are you calling me an ass?"

Throwing up his hands, Seeley Booth gave in. No FBI training had properly prepared him for what he sometimes had to deal with on this assignment. "Whatever. Look, are you assuming it's a mob hit, or are you sure?"

"I'm not dismissing any possibilities," she informed him. "But not all execution style murders are mob-related."

Booth followed her into her office. "You know that if it is, I've gotta beef up security around here."

"Why's that?"

"Because you have a tendency to get shot at when the mob's involved."

Brennan frowned. "You say that like it's my fault somehow."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "All I'm asking is for you to put this case off for a day or two. Give me some time to get some eyes on your condo, and have your car swept for bombs." Off her disbelieving look, he went on. "You said the guy's been dead for years. What's a few more days?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but he had his serious face on. "Fine," she gave in, reluctantly. "I have ten cases on my desk right now; I could focus on something else."

Booth's smile was wide and disarming. "I take back everything I ever said about you being stubborn and uncooperative."

"When did you call me stubborn and uncooperative?"

His smile drooped. "I gotta go." He started for the door. "I'll check in later."

On his way out, Booth brushed past Angela Montenegro on her way into Brennan's office. Out of habit, she turned her head and watched him go. "Still the best butt in the Bureau," she declared a moment later. With a shake of her head, she approached her best friend's desk. "Give me something to do before I jump Hodgins in the break room."

Brennan glanced up from rifling through some paperwork. "Are you serious about that?"

Angela made a 'so-so' motion with her hand. "He's analyzing soil samples, and he gets that same look of concentration when we…"

"I don't think I need the details." But Brennan smiled. "You're very happy lately."

"I am, yeah." Her friend paused. "Now we just need to find you a boy to play with." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the general direction Booth had taken. "What about that one?"

With slightly wider eyes, Brennan shook her head. "Highly unlikely."

"Why?"

"I'll email you the list of reasons." She handed Angela a file that contained photos of the victim's skull. "Here you go. Work on this. And stay out of the break room."

Accepting it, Angela asked, "What do we know about this one?"

Brennan sat back in her seat. "It's a possible mob hit. Just work up the face. But don't tell anyone what you're doing. I made a promise that I'd hold off on it for a few days."

"A promise? To who?"

"The best butt in the Bureau." When the other woman grinned, Brennan flushed. "Not that I've looked. I've just heard."

"Sure." Angela rose to her feet. "Sounds like someone needs a romp in the break room worse than I do."

"I wasn't kidding about that. People eat in there."

"Dirty." With a wink, she flounced out the office.

Brennan picked up a second file containing everything that was known about the case that had Booth so unnecessarily worried. She'd promised to put it aside…but it couldn't hurt to look. Could it?

* * *

To Be Continued 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Muchos, muchos gracias to the handful of people who reviewed the last chapter. Hug all around! I hope you enjoy this one, too.

* * *

The Woman Who Never Came Back 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**April 2032**

"Zack?" Angela stepped out onto the porch, wiping her paint-streaked hands on her work apron. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the day." The lines around her eyes grew deeper with worry. "Has something happened to…"

"No. He's fine." Zack leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"All right. I'm officially worried if you're buttering me up." She opened the door further. "Come in. Jack's down in the basement playing with his new toy."

Zack followed her into the warm, inviting house. He loved his own family, his wife and his two boys, but he always felt strangely at home here, where Angela and Hodgins had made their life together.

"Hey honey!" Angela shouted down the stairs that led to the basement. "Zack's here!"

Hodgins appeared a minute later, a pair of ridiculously oversized magnifying goggles pushed up into his graying curls. "Old man!" he greeted Zack with a hearty handshake. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Angela said mildly.

Zack cleared his throat. "Could we maybe sit in the living room?"

Hodgins glanced at his wife. "Is something wrong with…"

She shook her head. "He says no."

"Then what's going on?" He looked at their old friend and former colleague. "Zack?"

"A skeleton was dug up the other day," Zack began.

"At the site of the new Capitol," Angela interjected. "I heard. But what…" She stopped when she saw the pained look on Zack's face. "No."

He nodded ever so slightly. "Yeah. It's her." He swallowed heavily. "She's probably been down there since…you know."

Hodgins' voice was raw with shock. "How?"

"Single bullet to the base of the skull," Zack replied as clinically as possible. He tempered it with a kinder, "She would have died instantly."

"No," Angela repeated. When Zack nodded again, her face crumpled. "Jack…"

Fighting his own tears, Hodgins cradled his sobbing wife against his shoulder. "Shh," he said, stroking her short locks. "It's okay, honey. It's all right."

"No," she cried. "It's not." She lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "You don't get it." Her chin trembled. "It's my fault she's dead!"

* * *

"Here's what we know." Maria pointed her data storage device at the computerized wall and accessed a file. The image of a straight-faced but lovely woman appeared before the team. "Dr. Temperance Brennan was the senior anthropologist here at the Jeffersonian. She was also the author of a series of crime fiction novels loosely based around her life." 

"I have a first edition of her first book," Amy piped in. "It's worth about a grand."

"Is that the thing you keep in your nightstand next to your purple…"

Maria cut John off. "Out of respect for Dr. Brennan, keep that thought to yourself." She looked at the screen. "She disappeared in February of 2007. Pretty much without a trace."

"Until now," Taylor mused. "Were there any suspects?"

"A few."

"Names?"

The NDI agent gave him a look. "Big ones. Even today."

"Mob," Amy and John guessed at the same time.

"It was never officially declared," Maria said. "But her last major case involved possible crime-family connections."

Seth had been very quiet up until then. When he finally spoke, everyone listened. "She left work one day and never came back."

The team exchanged glances. Their skins were toughened by time spent on the job, but Seth still felt everything. They had an unspoken pact to protect him when they could. This seemed to be one of those times. Amy put her arm around him and gave him a motherly squeeze.

Taylor cleared his throat. "Her car was found abandoned in a wooded area outside of town. Forty miles from where her body was discovered the other day."

Maria looked down at her tiny computer. "And it was her body. Dental records just came back. They're a match."

They unconsciously observed a moment of silence for the woman on the wall screen.

"What happened in those forty miles?" Taylor wondered out loud.

John shook his head. "Nothing good."

Still holding onto Seth, Amy asked, "Where do we start?"

"With the body." All heads turned as Zack entered the room. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, but he looked focused. Determined. "Dr. Brennan devoted her life to the study of bones. If she left us any clues to her murder, that's where we'll find them." He looked around at his team. "She wasn't just my teacher or my boss. She was my friend. And this is the last thing I can do for her." There was a pause. "I'm going to need your help."

Seth spoke for them all. "You've got it."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for all the great reviews. I'm so happy yall are enjoying the story, or are at least interested enough to come back for more;)

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The Woman Who Never Came Back

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**January 2007**

"Who ate the last of the Christmas cookies?"

Angela brushed crumbs off her hands. "I have no idea."

Brennan threw the empty box into the trash with a sigh. "I need something really fattening."

"Tough day?"

Instead of answering, she started rifling through her desk drawers. "I know I have a granola bar in here somewhere."

"News flash, sweetie. Granola…not fattening."

"It has chocolate chips." When she failed to locate her snack, Brennan sank into her chair with sigh.

"Okay, what is with you? And don't ignore the question. I know something's on your mind." Angela folded her arms primly. "Work or pleasure?"

Her friend frowned. "Work is pleasure."

"Freak," Angela said affectionately. "Seriously."

Brennan looked away for a second. "Booth is mad at me."

"Did you replace his mousse with shaving cream?"

"No. Why would I do that?" Rolling her eyes, Angela indicated for her to go on. "He's mad that I had you start on John Doe's face the other day."

"Speaking of, I'm almost done. Something's just off about his nose."

But her friend barely heard her, much less acknowledged this information. "I continue to be astounded by his misguided attempts to assume the position of alpha-male. Even if we were a tribe, per say, he would not be the leader, making the decisions. He would be the warrior, carrying out the decisions. At best!"

"Making you the She-Bitch in charge?" Angela smirked.

"Yes." She blinked. "No. What?"

"Wow. It really upsets you when he's upset with you. That's so…telling."

Brennan shook her head. "The only thing that upsets me is being unnecessarily overprotected. And then being chastised like a wayward child for doing my job before I get his personal seal of approval!"

Angela smiled. "Sweetie, that man would throw himself in front of a train for you."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not." She stood up. "Just let him have his bodyguards and bomb sweeps. What can it hurt? Besides your pride," she added when her friend opened her mouth to reply. "Swallow it. There's nothing he wouldn't do to keep you safe. I think he's proven that enough."

Before Brennan could try to say something again, Hodgins strolled through her open office door with a self-satisfied grin. "I identified the trace from Our Lady of the Landfill's hands. Who wants to kiss me?"

Angela gave him a light peck on the lips.

His grin was wide and delighted. "Well, that's it. My day's made."

"What's the trace, Hodgins?" Brennan asked impatiently.

He managed to tear his eyes away from Angela just long enough to reply, "Chlorhexidine gluconate, glycerin and sodium hydroxide. Put them together with some purified water and you've got…"

"KY Jelly," Angela supplied. "What?" she asked when she got a significant look from her friend. "I read labels."

Clearly amused, Hodgins nodded. "She's right. Whatever Landfill Lady was up to before she died, it was probably a lot of fun. Because I don't care how those commercials try to spin it; that stuff's not used on your shoulders."

Brennan nodded. "Fine. Good work. Feel free to get back to it now."

"Is she still mad that Booth is mad at her?" Hodgins asked his girlfriend. Angela put her finger to her lips, but he didn't get the hint. "Because he's downstairs right now, and…"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before his boss was off and running.

"The She-Bitch is going to give the Warrior a piece of her mind," Angela told him once Brennan was gone. "Hey, when are you taking lunch? I'm starving."

Hodgins gave her an affectionate kiss. "You're always starving these days."

On the main level of the Jeffersonian, Brennan found Booth overseeing the transfer of the body over which they were currently at odds. She stood quietly to one side until the crew had the bones carefully in place on one of their lighted layout tables. When they departed, she and Booth faced off across the dead man.

"Well, Bones," he finally began. "Here he is. Have fun with him." He started to walk off, but turned back to add, "Oh, and if someone takes a shot at you, duck. That's just a little advice from your friendly neighborhood FBI agent."

"Why are you behaving like a petulant child? I'm only trying to do my job. If anyone has cause to be upset here, it's me, not you."

With his jacket pushed back and his fists propped on his hips, Booth shook his head. "You just don't get it. All I asked was for you to do one thing for me. Just one. Give me a few days. But you couldn't do that, could you?"

"I just had Angela start working on the face." She pointed to the body. "For all we know, he was killed by a jealous lover or a robbery gone wrong. You're the one making assumptions now, which makes you the ass!"

"You still have no idea what that means, do you?"

Brennan's face was flushed with frustration. "It doesn't matter what it means!"

"Just admit it."

"I will not!"

Booth looked surprised. "Is this actual anger I'm seeing, and not passive-aggressive hippy-crap?"

She inhaled and exhaled as deeply and calmly as she could. "Without a doubt, this is the most pointless and juvenile argument we've ever had. I'm trying to do my job, and you're trying to keep me from doing my job. Clearly, I'm in the right, and you…"

"I'm trying to keep you safe," Booth cut her off. "But if you don't want my help, that's just fine." He held up his hands. "See this? This is me backing off. Walking away. Leaving you be."

"Booth…"

"I'm serious, Bones. You call me if you need me, but until then, sayonara sweetheart!" He flicked a salute and sauntered away.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: A short chapter, but hopefully enjoyable. Thank you so much for all the support!

* * *

The Woman Who Never Came Back

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**April 2032**

"Are you sure you want to do this, Ang?"

It took Angela a second to reply to her husband's concerned question, but eventually she nodded. "I have to see her…to make it real. You know?"

Hodgins looked at Zack, giving his old friend a slight nod as an indication to go ahead. Zack lifted the thin sheet that covered the remains of their long lost friend and pulled it away.

"Oh, sweetie," Angela said after a long moment had passed. She gripped her husband's hand tightly. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Hodgins murmured, kissing her temple. "It wasn't."

"She would have left if I hadn't…" She closed her eyes, but not quickly enough to keep a tear from escaping. "All this time, she's been so close."

Zack looked down at the bones. "We recovered the remnants of the bullet. I have my best people analyzing it. But I doubt if we'll find much that decomposition and time haven't erased."

"The type of bullet could tell us something," Hodgins said. "If that can be determined. Would it be all right if I took a look?"

"Do I need to repeat the definition of 'retirement' to you for the seventy-third time?" Zack asked.

Before he could reply, Angela's eyes flew open. "Booth." The men looked at her. "He needs to know about…this." She looked away from the bones. "He doesn't deserve to hear about it second-hand."

"What makes you think he cares?"

She stared at her husband. "How can you say that?"

Sensing a fight over a very old issue re-emerging, Zack stepped in. "Of course I thought of him. But the NDI doesn't have any more of an idea where he is than we do. They lost track of him after the war ended, when the FBI and the CIA merged."

"He took himself out of the world when she disappeared from it," Hodgins said bitterly.

"Maybe we should find him," Angela quietly suggested. "Bring him back."

"What could he do that we can't?" Hodgins slipped his hand out of his wife's and folded his arms. "He had his chance to protect her. And look how that turned out."

The look Angela gave him could have melted steel. He would definitely be spending the night in the guest room. "He did what he could," she said. "We all let her down. Didn't we?"

"There's only one person to blame for this," Zack reminded them, rather firmly. "The person who put that bullet in Dr. Brennan's head. Now, we all remember everything that led up to the day she left. My team needs to know, too. They need to know everything." He looked back and forth between the couple. "Can you both do that?"

Apologies silently passed between Angela and Hodgins; they laced their fingers together, and he brought her hand up to his lips.

"Good." Zack nodded. "They should be back from lunch soon. We'll sit down with them and go over…"

"Mom? Dad?"

Angela and Hodgins turned their heads just in time to see their son walk into Zack's office with a surprised, but slightly confused look on his face.

"What are you two doing here?" Seth asked his parents.

* * *

To Be Continued 


End file.
